


Cactus.

by AnxiousGremlin



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 16:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18626653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousGremlin/pseuds/AnxiousGremlin
Summary: I’m a dumb bitch in love





	Cactus.

Cactus  
The first time I felt her, I wondered how long I had been longing to do it. Her touch felt almost magnetic, our hands were barely touching, only our little fingers were intertwined, and yet I started feeling like my whole world was getting on fire and I was okay with it.  
Her body and presence dragged me towards her. Her perfume flooded all my senses and suddenly all I could think about was the way her lips formed honeyed words. The way her curls rested on her shoulders and how she smiled at me, so perfect, so subtle, so real. All while playing with her favorite pen, the one with purple sparkles, the one she used to scribble stars on the cuffs of her jeans whenever she got bored.  
The sunset made all this a lot more dramatic. The light seemed to play over her skin and hair. Golden colors with sparks of purple were all I could see. She was talking about her brother, how he had fled of their house when their parents found out he was into drugs. She was sad. She was sad and I knew I was supposed to be sad too, I shouldn’t be admiring her beauty, nor her lips, her skin, her tone of voice.   
But man, I couldn’t help it. She was too beautiful, too powerful. Her honeyed words transformed into sad ones, and still I found myself clinging over the edge of the sidewalk to not miss even a word. And as tears started rolling down her cheeks, I wondered how she could even ignore how awesome she was. She makes me remember the cactus my father gave to my mother the day of her first date because she said she hated flowers. So out of place and yet so memorable.  
If I could tell her that, if I could tell her everything I see, how she is everything to me, everything would be easier. I wouldn’t be afraid anymore on caressing her cheek, nor of stealing her a kiss.   
But right now, and as much as our hands touch, I feel like we’re a million worlds apart: Her, so divine, so ethereal, seems to shine even when she doesn’t intend to it. Her words always feel like a caressing hand. Her look is a fond one. She doesn’t even know how wonderful her smile could make someone feel and that is exactly what makes her so un-reachable. Her ignorance towards what she is worth.   
And then there is me: so monotonous, so ordinary, so… average.  
And yet with her beside me I feel like I could be ethereal too, like if we, together, could be something more than just words and feelings and tears and smiles. I feel like I could drown in her.  
So, I do it. I reach for her hand and I hold it between mine. She stops talking. She stops crying. She doesn’t even look at me. She seems to be too shocked to look anywhere but ahead.   
And that’s exactly what I want to do. Look ahead. With her. Like this.  
I speak, and the words that come out of my mouth seem to be written by stardust. Like if she had used her favorite pen to give them shape.   
I speak and she smiles.  
And I keep speaking, and she keeps laughing.   
Then I say:  
‘Maybe I could bring you a cactus tomorrow’

**Author's Note:**

> Love this


End file.
